The Reluctant Dark Knight/Part 11
Please Note that only Numbuh 404 may edit this page. Broken Crowns King Gerard managed to climb the stairs into the tower and drew in an unsteady breath; Falla was still in his room, and he worried if she would be aggravated about him having left earlier. With Clockwork near his right ankle, he knocked on the door and said, “It’s me and Clockwork, Falla.” After a few moments, the locks clicked and it pulled away from him; just as he feared, she looked at him like he was a lowly street criminal. The little Smurf whirred, tugging his leg, so he reached out to take her hand, but her arms were crossed. With some coaxing, she relaxed and extended her right arm. He kissed the top of her hand lightly and tossed his crown onto the bed like he had done before. “I’m sorry I left you alone like that,” he murmured, “I was only trying to keep your safety most prominently in mind in case something serious had befallen the castle. I wanted to protect you, that was all.” He paused and caught her eyes as he added, “Can you forgive me?” With a subtle roll of the eyes, she accepted his apology rather begrudgingly. When he smiled, she withdrew her hand and brushed past him, standing in the doorway. She turned her head to see him and put her hand on the door. “Just this once.” As she closed the door with a firm jerk, she smirked and winked, and then descended the stairs while the king silently remained in his room. He blinked a few times before registering his advisor’s efforts to catch his attention. Clockwork told him something, which he seemed to dismiss, and then proceeded down the staircase after her. He hoped she would let him bid her farewell before she left with her friends. Halfway down, he slowed his pace and stitched his eyebrows together. “Where is Peewit…?” '. . .' “Peewit,” he whispered, “Peewit…” He nudged the boy to wake him up. It was dreadfully late, and although sleeping was preferable now, it wasn’t preferable right now. Eventually, his efforts paid off. “Hmm – is it morning yet?” “No,” he replied, sitting upright on his feet. Peewit rubbed his eyes and looked at him – all he could see was a silhouette at the moment. “Are we home, at least?” “I’m afraid not.” He shook his head and lifted one leg, resting his hand on his companion’s knee. “How long was I in here?” Peewit asked more angrily. “I can’t say,” he admitted, “Sorry, Peewit.” He stood only to bend over and scoop him up in his arms. “We’re going home now, though.” He straightened his back and leisurely exited the storage room with the boy’s head on his shoulder and his arms hugging his neck. “Peewit, is Falla still here?” “I dunno,” he replied, clearly tired, “I haven’t seen her in hours.” “That’s okay, I’ll find her.” He made his way to the drawbridge gate and met his horse; the beast was loyal to his owner, standing quietly and without objection to having the boy mounted to his saddle. A soft paw at the ground was his only motion. “What took you so long to find me, Johan?” He looked over his shoulder, having heard him while walking away. “I was tied up in other things.” Without another word, he jogged into the castle. Truthfully, his heart and head was constricted in a knot threatening to cut him short of life at any moment, and it was draining his energies rapidly. His footsteps echoed in the near-empty dance hall, and there was both Falla and his majesty sitting at the base of the stairs on the opposite side of the room. He approached with a low sigh, running his hand through his hair before meeting them. “It’s about time you got back, Johan,” the young lady mentioned unhappily. “Have you any notion of the hour?” Her frown subsided when she had a better chance to examine him; he was worn down in tattered clothing and seemed like he may collapse with any further conflict. He offered his hand, so she took it and was pulled to her feet; he could tell she was eager to get home. “My apologies, Falla,” he said almost in a whisper. He nodded to King Gerard before turning to guide her out to the drawbridge. “It’s been a very long night…” She agreed in a murmur and mounted Gentile as soon as she could reach her; Johan did the same with Bayard, and soon they were off with Biquette trailing them while he held Peewit in his lap.